Can You Hear Me?

Self-image versus public perception.  

Who do YOU see when you look in the mirror?

Many years ago I participated in a sales training were the instructors videotaped staged sales encounters as a torture . . . er . . . training tool.  I did not look or sound like I thought I did.  Hip, slick, and cool were not adjectives that came to mind.  I was twitchy and creepily insincere.  I was leaning in during the sales encounter like I was going to tip over into my cup of coffee.  It looked vaguely threatening, like a polite bully calmly suggesting that some indeterminate but bad thing would happen if things didn't go his way.

I was at a bookstore a few days ago, trying to track down some old Pulitzer Prize winners.  I politely declined an offer of help from the saleslady when I entered the store, preferring to poke around on my own, confident that I'd uncover a gem or two even if I was unsuccessful in my targeted search.  I uncovered no gems which was OK, too.  As I was checking out this woman started to explain that they had a back room in the basement where a lot of out-of-print books were kept.  She was talking - I was attending.  She stopped suddenly and raised her voice.  A lot.

"Can you hear me?" she said, slowly and distinctly and loudly.

Bemused, I said: "I can hear you fine," thinking: "What the fuck is this woman's problem?"

"You had this intense look on your face," she said.

Trying hard not to laugh I replied: "I was listening intently."

"Yes, you surely were," she remarked.

I wish I had a videotape of that encounter.  I felt quite relaxed.  I did not, apparently, look that way.  I found several books in the hidden room.